


Drunk Hearts Speak the Truth

by lilolilyrae



Series: Drunk Hearts [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drunken Kissing, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-16 23:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16504904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilolilyrae/pseuds/lilolilyrae
Summary: Everett and T'Challa find themselves in bed together after a night of celebrating. What will it do to their still new friendship? Or maybe there is more to it than that...





	Drunk Hearts Speak the Truth

**Author's Note:**

> Jeesh idek.

They saved the world.

They really did it!

The others saw it as a reason to celebrate- and what a reason it was!- so despite feeling weary and exhausted, Everett stayed up for drinks and food.

Mainly drinks. 

In retrospect, that might have been where things started to go wrong.

 

Shuri had dragged him along, and as Everett had started to protest that he didn't want to impose, T'Challa invited him to stay, and he really couldn't refuse the king, right?

Except if he was honest with himself, it wasn't T'Challa being royalty that made him stay... Or at least, it was not his only reason.

 

After a while, T'Challa was getting tipsy, swaying on his feet and grabbing another drunk, and Everett turned around to find a sane human- maybe Okoye? To help him, but the general was in a heated discussion with Nakia that he really didn't feel like interrupting. 

Instead, Shuri showed up out of nowhere, and dragged him and T'Challa out of the dining hall and into an elevator, wishing them to have fun before shutting the door.

Then they were left alone.

 

 Everett was completely caught of guard, gaping at the closed door, then at T'Challa who was leaning against the mirrored wall, looking at him through hooded eyes.

"I- um- uh-" Everett blinked fast and tried to get his brain back in track.

"Do you know how to get this thing moving? Or, you know, just open the door so we can- oh, okay."

T'challa had hit something on his bracelet, and the elevator started to move.

 

 

 

After that, everything is a bit blurry in Everett's memory.

He's fairly certain that there was more alcohol, although he could not point out what exactly it was or where they had gotten it from.

It also involved a couch- or maybe a bed? 

In that order?

And a lot of cuddling together with one glass of whatever they had been drinking, and that had turned into groping, maybe kissing, and then-

Oh, what would he give to remember that... IT definitely was nice... A nice dream, he was asleep, yeah, he's just waking up, that's what this is...

 

 

 

Blinking against the dim light, Everett groans as he sits up and a headache shoots through his forehead. 

Then he freezes.

He's not in his own bed.

And while that is something he is fairly used to due to his job, he's also definitely not _alone_.

Does that mean-

 

Looking over and being faced with the still-snoring king of Wakanda, Everett's mouth falls open and he has to resist the urge to press a hand against his mouth and squeal.

Yup, definitely not a dream, then.

 

Then he sobers.

Well, not literally, alcohol is definitely still in his bloodstream.

But he's thinking again: what does this mean?

Sure, from what he remembered, they both had fun, but T'Challa had been _drunk_ , damnit!

Well, so had Everett been as well, a fact that makes him feels slightly less guilty about taking advantage of the King, but still...

He can't know whether the other had really wanted it.

Or whether he would like to do it again. 

As far as Everett is concerned, he would definitely want. Oh dear, he'll take everything T'Challa is willing to give.

 

Right as he thinks that, the other is starting to stir.

Oh dear.

Maybe he should just quietly sneak out before T'Challa really wakes up? After all, he had more alcohol than himself, so maybe he doesn't remember anything at all...

Although with the Black Panther superpowers that seems quite unlikely. 

Probably won't even be hangover, Everett thinks a bit jealously. 

 

Still, maybe he should risk it.

At least they could both _pretend_ like nothing had happened.

Slowly, he moves to climb out of the bed.

There are his pants... But where's the rest of his clothes? 

 

"Everett...?" T'Challa murmurs from the bed without opening his eyes.

He freezes, one leg already in his pants, holding onto it like a lifeline and praying that T'Challa is still dreaming or something. 

"Are you leaving?" 

Alright, that answers that.

 

"Ummm" slowly, Everett turns around while pulling his pants on completely, and is faces with T'Challa squinting at him 

"I- um- sorry?"

T'Challa sighs, pushes himself into a sitting position- no signs of headache or nausea at all, he was totally right about that, Everett thinks a bit smugly- and points to the other side of the bed.

"Your shirt's over there, from what I remember." 

 

Everett nods. So they have ab understanding, this is over and won't happen again.

He quickly walks over to grab it- but when he throws a look over his shoulder, T'Challa looks actually crestfallen...

"Um, are you okay? I mean-" he fidgets with the shirt in his hands. "I didn't hurt you or anything? Do anything you didn't want to do? I swear I didn't plan on jumping you while you were drunk, but I think Shuri actually tried to get us together by pushing us in that elevator, and I was drunk too, and I know that's not an excuse, I just-"

"Wait, what?" T'Challa interrupts him. "You think- no! The only way you hurt me was by getting ready to leave right now!"

Noticing what he said, he presses a hand to his forehead in embarrassment and quickly continues to talk.

"Shuri knows that I have a crush on you, so she tried to play matchmaker. I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable or anything, I swear it won't get in-between us working together in the future." 

 

Everett can only stare.

This can't be true.

This is way, way too good to be true.

 

"Um, Everett? I mean- Ross? Are you-"

No, not back to last name basis! That's now really the last thing he wants.

"I like you too!" Everett blurts out, embarrassedly swaying back onto his heels and trying to cross his arms over his chest, but somehow his shirt gets in the way, and-

 

And suddenly T'Challa is standing in front of him, super-strength and speed not only useful on the battlefield. 

"You like me?" he asks, breathless. 

"I- yes."

"So you'd like to do this again?"

"Yes." Everett doesn't think he has any braincells left to reply in more than one syllable, but for once he's totally okay with that. Especially because of how T'Challa's face lights up every time he says yes.

"And- would you like more? I mean, not just sex, also..."

"Yes! I- yes. Yes."

 

A grin is spreading over T'Challa's face, and Everett can't help reaching out to him, shirt dropping from his hands.

T'challa moves as well, closing the gap between them, and they are hugging, and kissing, and then it's both and soon evolving into a full-on makeout session while standing in the middle of the room.....

 

 

As Okoye comes to check on the King around lunchtime, not believing Shuri's way too innocent "I'm certain he's alright", she just groans and shuts the door loud enough to be sure the men inside have heard her.

The princess definitely owes her one for putting her through this.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if you liked it!
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, you might also like my [Black Panther Everpanther Series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/955170) :)


End file.
